


Snapshot Scenes of Memories

by chocolatecrack



Category: Hey! Say! JUMP
Genre: All the good things in the world yas, Bathtub Sex, Cameras, Come Swallowing, Couch Sex, Cuddling while playing Video Games, Domestic, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Humor, I think? hahaha idek, IT'S JUST VERY DOMESTIC OK, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Smut, also mentions of Raiya and Daiki and Takaki bcos why not, and Yamada approves bcos of course, basically Yuto taking tons of Yamada's photos while they have sex LOL, bcos I had to freakin sneak in some form of YBHK somehow bcos I want to HAHAHAHA, brief appearances by Yabu and Hikaru, camera kink, ok where do we start
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 11:33:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10018466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocolatecrack/pseuds/chocolatecrack
Summary: The sound of a shutter has him furrowing his eyebrows, and while he was still on the feeling of almost, a sudden curiousness is mixed in now, making him open his eyes and look at the boy he was in love with.Who was apparently carrying a Polaroid camera in his hands.





	

**Author's Note:**

> OK SO  
> A recent magazine issue had this "Yuto takes all the members' photos" thing and his comment to the photo he took of Yamada was (non-verbatim) "Yamada looks good in all the angles" and that got me thinking HMMMMMMMMMMMMM YUTO WHAT KINDS OF ANGLES ;) So this sprung from that, and I couldn't get it out of my head nor could I stop writing and it just kept happening and HERE WE GO. THIS IS THE RESULT. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Also bcos it was bound to happen, I was bound to make a fic of Yuto taking Yamada's photos, and it just so happens that the concept fits the idea so I went with it. :)))))) 
> 
> Fair warning: this thing is basically SEX SEX SEX CUTENESS SEX SEX DOMESTICITY SEX  
> so yea
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy reading!
> 
> Oh and idk why I'm doing this lol, but I had this playlist that I was listening to when writing certain scenes so if y'all wanna listen to them while reading, that's fine too.
> 
> For the fun/banter scenes, esp the one at the store: Shake It Like A Polaroid - Make Out Monday, Luv, Hold Me Down - Drowners  
> For the kitchen scene: F.E.E.L.G.O.O.D. - R5  
> For the couch scene: Sweater Weather - The Neighbourhood  
> For the bathtub scene: Give Me Love - Ed Sheeran, I Will Wait - Gracenote, Gemini - Spongecola  
> For the bedroom scene at the last part: Surround You - Echosmith
> 
> Anyways, onwards to the fic! Oh, P.S.: Un-beta'd so forgive me for any errors I forgot to check!
> 
> chocolatecrack @ LJ || scenesinmoonstruck @ Tumblr || tobikko_2007 @ Twitter if you guys want to talk!

Yamada’s elicits a loud and long moan, the sound reverberating off of Yuto’s walls, echoing in the atmosphere. He senses a familiar feeling pooling low on his stomach, knows that he’s so close to coming, Yuto driving hard and fast into him.

“ _More_ ,” he begs the taller boy, whines desperately, “Yuto, _more_.”

And Yuto goes faster and harder, deeper into him and Yamada swears he was going to fall apart any minute now.

He feels himself inching closer to the edge, biting on his lip so hard he can almost taste iron, his hair sprawled all over Yuto’s pillows, sweat covering his entire being. He knows he was close to coming. Can feel it even in his fingertips. As his face contorts, clawing for release, he was about ask Yuto to touch him, surround him with his strong and firm hand, topple him over the edge of no return when…

 _Click_.

The sound of a shutter has him furrowing his eyebrows, and while he was still on the feeling of almost, a sudden curiousness is mixed in now, making him open his eyes and look at the boy he was in love with.

Who was apparently carrying a Polaroid camera in his hands.

“Ah,” Yuto reacts, expression on his face more of an _ah, looks like he noticed_ than an _oh shit, he caught me_. He pants, still very much feeling the effects of being inside Yamada, and clutches the Polaroid camera in his hands, the printed photo hanging from the front falling down, gracefully landing on top of Yamada’s sweaty abs.

“W-what are you doing?” Yamada whispers, almost a moan, voice husky and hoarse from their still connection.

“Y-You looked…” Yuto said, trying to find the right words.

Truthfully, it had been a new kink.

Yamada knows Yuto was a man of kinks, as much as he was. Only, he was subtler about it. But still, one day it could be blindfolds and binds, other days it could be uniforms and roleplay. Last week, it was whipped cream and melted chocolate. Which they always did in the bathroom, of course. Yamada wasn’t going to sleep on sticky sheets, no thank you.

But he never really thought about a camera kink.

Yuto loved cameras, that much was obvious. More obvious was that he loved taking photos of Yamada. But during sex?

Hmm.

Yamada’s curiosity was sure piqued.

“You looked beautiful,” Yuto says in a whisper so low it sends a shiver down Yamada’s spine. This boy wasn’t helping him from holding back at all.

Honestly, he did. From Yuto’s point of view, Yamada always looked beautiful. But when he was thrusting into him, driving him closer to his peak, Yuto sneaks a glance at Yamada’s face and was mesmerized. He wasn’t sure why, exactly. They had done this so many times, too many times for him to count. But at that moment, Yamada looked like he was glowing. And then, as if screaming for him to take a photo, to evidently make that image permanent, his Polaroid camera rattles on the bedside table, when the headboard of his bed had hit the smaller furniture. He mindlessly makes a grab for it, not really knowing how or why. But his long limbs easily reach for the pretty thing, and maybe he was lightheaded, or high on endorphins and ecstasy. But with Yamada biting his lip hard, hair sprawled on his pillow like a crown or a halo, sweat making him glow even more, Yuto presses a button.

 _Click_.

And the image prints on film, awaiting development.

Yamada reaches for the photo, tries his best to focus his eyes on the thin piece of film in front of him.

And okay, so sue him for having a big head or being a narcissist, but even _he_ thought he looked beautiful in that photo. Which was rare, because insecurities are a big part of himself.

But Yamada always loved Yuto’s photos of him. And this one was no exception.

He loved the photo not because it was of himself. Nor because he thought he looked beautiful in it.

He loved it because he now knows what he looks like when Yuto makes love to him.

“S-so this is what I look like,” Yamada continues to pant, still riding on the feeling of falling over the edge, after all. But his heart swells and _god_ , Nakajima Yuto just keeps surprising him.

Yuto smirks, feeling a surge of lust and love flow through his veins because of Yamada’s subtle approval of his new kink. Not that Yamada ever refuses his kinks anyway. But he bites his lip, softly placing the camera back on the bedside table, keeping his hand on it. He lowers himself, kissing Yamada’s already swollen lips again, biting on the bottom lightly, and thrusts into him once more. Yamada moans into the rough kiss, the pressure building up again, low on his stomach, and he knows and feels that Yuto wasn’t going to stop this time. That he was going to push him over.

“D-don’t stop,” he whispers onto their kiss, one hand fisting Yuto’s jet-black hair, the other clawing at his back.

And Yuto keeps going, in and out, fast and slow, on and on. He knows Yamada was going to come first. Determined to make it happen. Because he has an idea. A brilliant one, if he did say so himself. And he was Nakajima Yuto, after all. He was going to do everything to make that happen.

Pulling away from the kiss and angling his head better, with Yamada’s fingers still pulling his hair, Yuto blows hot breath into the older boy’s ear, earning him a shudder for reaction. And then he takes an earlobe in his mouth, licks and nips, making Yamada _squirm_ from sensitivity.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he curses. So close. So damn close.

And with Yuto’s whisper, he just about loses it.

“Come for me,”

That was all it took for Yamada to reach the point of no return, and he comes, all over his stomach, Yuto prolonging the feeling by driving into him. And his ears are deafened by sounds of his own moans and screams of Yuto’s name, and Yuto’s polaroid camera endlessly clicking.

_Click. Click. Click._

Because Yuto makes a grab for the camera again, before pushing Yamada to the edge, wanting to take photo after photo. Yamada’s face contorting from his climax, mouth open like an invitation, eyebrows creased, eyes shut tight. He arches his back, forming a new angle that was perfect for another picture.

_Click._

Yamada pants, trying to regain back his normal breathing, blowing out a breath before he gulps.

 _Click_.

Lazily opening his eyes, he looks at Yuto, half-lidded, lips slightly parted, face flush, cheeks red from coming, every inch of him sweaty from just about everything.

 _Click_.

The photos fall, one by one, all over the bed. Like leaves during autumn, swaying in the wind.

Yuto has a satisfied smile on his face, Yamada with the same one, and he pulls out, still hard.

“But you didn’t—” Yamada starts, wanting Yuto to release as well.

“It’s okay. I have an idea,” Yuto immediately replies. He raises his eyebrows at Yamada, pairing it with a knowing smirk, and the older boy doesn’t need words for him to understand what Yuto had meant.

The taller boy kneels on the bed, white sheets rustling below him, about to position Yamada accordingly. But Yamada is already on his hands and knees, still sex-satisfied, and suddenly feeling very generous. He grabs Yuto firmly, placing him inside his hot, waiting mouth, wrapping his hand around what it couldn’t reach.

“ _Shit_ ,” Yuto curses, biting his lip, trying to keep his balance.

Yamada bobs his head, Yuto’s long arms reaching to give his ass a gentle squeeze, Yamada increasing his pace when he does so. He lifts his head, hallowing out his cheeks, and licks the tip, making it harder for Yuto to control himself.

“ _S-so good,_ ” the taller boy mutters, forcing his eyes open, wanting to witness Yamada work on him. He straightens himself, tries to keep his focus on the boy below, looking down.

And, as if on cue, Yamada looks up at him with those big doe eyes, plump and pink swollen lips taking him further down his throat and really, Yuto couldn’t resist.

 _Click_.

His hands shake from the feeling of pleasure, but he was careful not to drop his precious camera, and still take a good photo. Yuto sees the new one developing from where it had fallen, beside Yamada’s knee, and it had been pretty, of course. It was Yamada after all. Yamada was always pretty.

Taking things up a notch, Yamada takes in Yuto’s length as much as he can, and when he was sure Yuto was the furthest in, he _moans_ , vocal chords vibrating around Yuto’s tip. And that was enough to make Yuto feel closer and _closer_ to where he wants to reach.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Yuto couldn’t help but close his eyes this time, “Again. _Please_ , Yama.”

Yamada repeats his action, hallowing his cheeks as he pulls away, moaning when he knows Yuto was the furthest in. He continues, making the moan longer and louder every time.

 _Click_. _Click_.

Not even caring anymore, Yuto settles the Polaroid camera somewhere on the bed, honestly too far from sanity to even give a damn if it accidentally falls to the ground. He can always buy another one anyway. But he was so close to the edge, Yamada taking him there slowly but definitely surely, and he needs to focus on him now. Pictures later.

He threads his fingers through Yamada’s hair, a silent telling that he was close and to keep going and that it felt good.

Yamada increases his pace and volume, and with one last hallow of his cheeks and moan on his throat, Yuto pulls out and comes, Yamada opening his mouth to greet him. The taller boy pants, his heart beating loudly in his chest, honestly shocked that Yamada had done it again, surprising him. And to further that, Yamada looks at him fiercely, knowing that what he was going to do next would make Yuto _crumble_.

He swallows, seductively and proudly. And Yuto was so awed, he couldn’t do anything but blink. When he had finally processed what Yamada had done, he hurriedly takes the older boy’s face in his hands and kisses him roughly.

He can taste himself, still on Yamada’s tongue, and maybe it was because they were still recovering from their highs, but it was probably the most erotic they had ever felt.

The Polaroid camera hits Yamada’s knees suddenly, gravity pulling it towards the pressing of his knees on the mattress, and Yamada is suddenly made aware of the numerous photos surrounding them both on the bed. Some on the floor.

He pulls away slowly, decreasing the intensity in the kiss fraction by a fraction, so Yuto would be able to keep up. Placing a last chaste kiss on Yuto’s lips, he picks up one of the photos and stares at it. It was one of him coming. A blush gathers on his cheeks.

Yamada looks at Yuto then, playful smirk on his face, “So where did you find this new kink of yours?”

Yuto smirks back, “I had tons of extra Polaroid film?”

“Yea, _sure_ ,”

“You really did look beautiful,” the taller boy says, grabbing the photo trapped between Yamada’s fingers carefully, and looks at it. Instantly, he has the urge to see it again. To see Yamada come again. To take another photo, at another angle. But his camera had run out of film, and it was going to take time to grab another set and refill it. He’ll save it for next time.

Yamada pulls at Yuto so they can both lie down, making a grab for the other photos surrounding them.

“I like this one,” he says, biting his lip shyly, settling himself in Yuto’s hold. It was the one of him with half-lidded eyes, looking at Yuto with love and satisfaction. For some reason, it made his heart soar. And really, he needed to smack himself from being incredibly narcissistic.

“I love that one the most,” spooning Yamada, Yuto says the words affectionately, and it feeds Yamada’s ego. He places a gentle kiss on the older boy’s neck, right where the pulse was. “You look raw,” he says after a kiss, “And vulnerable,” a kiss, “And beautiful,” and another kiss. “But I like this one a lot too,” he continues in a playful tone, handing Yamada the one where he was looking up, mouth surrounding Yuto’s length.

The blush on Yamada’s cheeks immediately redden, then it reaches his ears, and he instantly grabs the photo and makes it fall to the floor, slightly embarrassed but also a bit proud of himself. He hits Yuto playfully on the arm surrounding his waist, “Shut up,”

Yuto laughs, “That one did look a bit pornographic though,”

Yamada rolls his eyes, but he couldn’t help his laugh either, “A bit? Try ‘a lot’,”

“You’re still beautiful,”

“And you’re stuck in one of your kinks again,”

“Hey, I play along with your kinks too,” Yuto moves closer, hugs him tighter, and Yamada’s thankful for the increased warmth.

“Yours are more creative,”

“Yours are rougher,”

“Just the way I like it,”

“Like the way I love you,”

Yamada’s heart skips a beat.

“Oh my god, shut _up_ , cheeseball,” Yamada hides his face on their pillow, words getting muffled.

Yuto laughs heartily, and honestly, it was contagious. So Yamada ends up laughing with him.

But he gathers enough courage to say it back.

“Yea, yea, I love you too, whatever,”

Yuto already knows that, but it was good to hear anyway. He kisses Yamada’s hair, breathing in the scent that he was addicted to, the scent that was always familiar. The scent he will always love.

“Tomorrow again?”

Yuto’s thinking of running to the store and buying about a hundred packs of Polaroid film, although he knows he was going to end up buying just 10. But that was enough, still.

“Morning, afternoon, night,” Yamada replies, already looking forward to it.

“Well, someone’s eager,” Yuto teases.

“Like the way you are,”

“Only for you,”

“ _Always_ for you,”

And Yuto likes this. Their talks after. It was always fun, and heartfelt, and vulnerable, and never awkward. It makes him love Yamada even more than he already does.

“Sweet dreams, Ryosuke,” he whispers quietly into Yamada’s ear, and the older boy holds onto him tighter for that.

“Sweet dreams, Yuto,”

And they drift off to sleep.

* * *

“I can’t believe you’re actually attempting to buy a hundred,”

“I can afford it if you chip in juuuuuust a little of—”

“I’m not helping you fund your kink films,”

“Aww, come on Yama. You’re no fun,” Yuto pouts.

They were at Yuto’s favorite camera store, somewhere in the heart of Shibuya, and really, Yamada wasn’t even worried that they going to be spotted here. By fans or paparazzi all the same. It was just a camera store after all.

It wasn’t a sex store, was what Yamada meant. And no one knew what the film was for anyway.

But he suddenly remembers what they were for, and why they were here, and a hint of blush appears on his cheeks.

“I’m still not funding your kink films,”

“I’m honestly shocked you’re saying the word ‘kink’ out loud,”

“No one’s near enough to hear it,”

“I am,”

“Point being?”

Yuto lets out an exasperated sigh, “Fine. Fifty?”

“I won’t last that long,”

“Thirty?”

“Ten shots per pack, Yuto. That’s three hundred,”

“Well yea, but—”

“Five,”

“But—”

“ _Five,_ ”

Yamada stresses the word, and he has this determined look on his face that’s so irresistible and really, it irritates Yuto to the fullest that he can’t refuse him. That he doesn’t even want to. Because he is Yamada Ryosuke, and he _is_ his weakness, after all.

“ _Fine_. I’m buying seven,”

“Yuto—”

“I’ll use the other two for other matters, don’t worry,”

Yamada has defeated look on his face, “Suit yourself,” and offers Yuto small smile.

The taller boy jumps giddily on his spot, was about to reach to give Yamada a kiss on the cheek. But he suddenly remembers they were public figures in a very public place, so he bites down hard on his lower lip and resists the urge to kiss his boyfriend on the cheek. Yamada notices him doing so, and he suddenly has this urge to let him do what he wanted.

“Ugh,” he sighs, weak for Yuto’s pleading eyes, “Quick one.”

Yuto smiles like he won the lottery, kissing Yamada’s cheek as quick as he can, as hidden as possible, and beams.

“Be thankful you’re cute,”

“I’m thankful you love meeee,” Yuto sing-songs, signaling for a saleslady to come over.

Rolling his eyes, Yamada bites his lip, knows it was true.

“Whatever. Just hurry up and buy your kink films,”

And Yamada was thankful the saleslady was still far enough to not hear the word ‘kink’.

* * *

Yuto turns the knob on his apartment door, pulling the key out of the lock and placing it back in his pocket, gesturing for Yamada to enter first. Clutching a bag of groceries in one hand, Yamada steps into the apartment, as clean as they had left it this morning.

Except.

His pictures were sprawled all over Yuto’s living room, a few stuck on Yuto’s corkboard placed in his photography and camera nook in one corner. And Yamada would’ve been shocked, except he was half expecting this to be what would greet him the moment they got back.

He was actually more curious as to how Yuto even had time to hang them, seeing as they went out the same time earlier on. But he guesses it was when Yuto said he ‘forgot’ something.

He wasn’t actually embarrassed of them. Nor did he not approve. In fact, he actually loved Yuto’s new kink. More than his past ones, anyway. But it was just.

“Please tell me I’m the only other person who ever comes here,” Yamada says in a reprimanding tone, although it lacks sting. He wasn’t really mad. Just worried that they might get exposed. Wouldn’t want anyone else finding out about this, after all. For Yuto’s eyes, and Yuto’s eyes only.

But Yuto gives him back a playful smirk, decides to put a twist to his words, “You’re the only other person who ever _comes_ here,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Haha, funny,” Yamada replies sarcastically.

“What? You asked,”

Yamada narrows his eyes Yuto, heading for the kitchen anyway.

They had decided to buy groceries after their short trip to Yuto’s favorite camera store, because Yamada woke up that morning, with a kiss from Yuto, and headed to the kitchen, only to find out that the taller boy’s refrigerator was close to being empty. Needless to say, Yuto had a scolding and a, “How do you even do things without me, honestly,” that morning, but he just laughs it off.

Yamada places the plastic bags on the kitchen table, was about to get started with putting the groceries away, when Yuto decides to whisper in his ear.

“Hey, Yama,” he says in a husky tone, and damn it, Yamada is electrified in an instant.

“No,”

“But we have new film,” Yuto pouts.

“Groceries first, Yuto,”

“But—”

“Groceries,” he grabs one of the heavy bags and shoves it in Yuto’s arms, “First. Okay?” he smiles innocently at the taller boy, knows Yuto wouldn’t be able to resist anyway.

Yuto simply pouts some more. “Fine,” he says, defeated. Yamada smiles triumphantly, hurrying to put vegetables in the refrigerator’s vegetable drawer.

“You want katsudon for lunch?” Yamada calls out, refilling the egg tray. Yuto mumbles a ‘sure’ from the other side of the kitchen, refilling cabinets with kitchen tissues and condiments. He asks a question all of a sudden, Yamada turning to him. But before Yamada had the chance to ask Yuto to repeat it, not hearing it the first time, he gulps.

Because.

It was just.

Yuto was arranging something on the kitchen counter, a few mugs and cartons of whatever the hell it was. And Yamada spots him remove a black watch on his wrist that had a tight grip, and his shirt’s sleeves were rolled up all the way to his elbows, collarbones peeking out from the v-neck collar, hair ruffled just the right way. And okay, so maybe lunch can wait, because he was hungry for something else now, and he was going to be such a hypocrite because he was the one who forced Yuto to handle the groceries first. But his boyfriend looked attractive, and irresistible, and _domestic_ , and it was so much more than Yamada can take.

He spots Yuto’s Polaroid camera sitting on the dining table, and well, he goes for it.

“You know what?” he makes a grab for the camera, squeezes himself between Yuto’s body and the marble kitchen counter, and jumps to sit on top of it, locking Yuto in place in between his knees. He hands the taller boy the Polaroid, glad the film was already refilled, “Screw the groceries.”

Yuto simply smirks.

He attacks Yamada’s mouth with a vigorous kiss, hungry for his taste, for the way his lips felt, for the way his tongue rolled the right way when it tangled with his. Yamada’s fingers immediately find a way to fist Yuto’s hair, not knowing why he suddenly felt so deprived for the way Yuto would always kiss him like their lives depended on it.

Yamada did mention ‘morning, afternoon, and night’ last night, after all. And it was still 11:30AM and he wanted Yuto, and his kisses, and the way he makes him come, so screw everything else because he was going to get this.

“ _God_ ,” he says in the kiss, one hand clawing at Yuto’s shirt, trying to desperately remove it, “How are you so attractive even putting groceries away?”

Yuto laughs into the kiss, “Speak for yourself,”

Yamada locks his ankles behind Yuto’s back, pulling him closer, the taller boy fumbling to get his Polaroid up and working so he can take pretty pictures of a turned-on Yamada Ryosuke. He pulls away for a moment, lowers his lips to lick at Yamada’s neck and attack the pulse with a suck.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Yamada curses, biting on his bottom lip hard.

Yuto grazes his teeth on Yamada’s collarbone, hurriedly and expertly removing the older boy’s shirt with one hand, and removing his own right after. He kneels on the floor, thankful for his height, as he harshly removes Yamada’s black ripped skinny jeans, along with the boxers, and nips at the skin of his luscious thighs, avoiding where Yamada wanted him the most.

“ _Yuto,_ ” Yamada says in a shaky voice, Yuto’s teeth on his thighs feeling like a match striking to light a fire, “ _Please_ ,” he begs, and it was sweet music to Yuto’s ears, the pleading word tattooing itself onto his memory.

He chuckles but complies, wraps his free hand around Yamada, and engulfs him with his hot mouth in one go.

“ _Shit_ ,” Yamada reacts, holding onto the kitchen counter tightly with one hand, trying to balance himself. He places his other on Yuto’s neck, laces his fingers through smooth and silky hair, and _fuck_ , Yuto’s tongue was going to make him come, and come apart.

The taller boy keeps looking up at him, Polaroid camera pointed directly at his face, endlessly snapping pictures for keepsake.

_Click. Click. Click. Click._

Yuto moans while Yamada was deep in his mouth, and the older boy is thinking this was payback for last night, in the good way or the bad way, but he doesn’t really care. Doesn’t find the time to care, actually, because Yuto had his mouth around him, swirling his tongue in all the right ways, and the sound of the camera shutter turned him on more than he expected to. Because he knows this image, how he looked like right now, was going to be printed into a pretty picture, for Yuto to display. To stare at, to immortalize. And that made him feel things that he couldn’t even comprehend.

“ _M-more,_ ” Yamada whines, begging, wants Yuto to just get on with it already, because he was hanging on a very thin string, and he wanted to fall into an abyss of ecstasy. “ _Faster._ ”

The taller boy licks him at the tip, swirls his tongue around where Yamada was sensitive the most, and _Christ_ , it was either he needs to stop doing that or keep going and Yamada’s brain had lost its function, not knowing which one he wanted more. Yuto releases him for a split second, licking two fingers, and immediately places Yamada back into his mouth. Then he pushes a finger inside of him, then two, and matches the pace of his fingers with the pace of his mouth, and Yamada took all the control he could muster to keep himself together.

“ _Fuck, fuck, fuck,_ ” he cursed repeatedly, arching his back, hold on both Yuto’s hair and the kitchen counter tightening. “Y-Yuto. Inside,” he gasps, sneaking in a moan, “W-want you inside me. _Fuck_.”

_Click. Click. Click._

Yuto snaps a couple of photos while Yamada begs for him, not knowing how to resist the expression on the older boy’s face as he pleads. But he doesn’t stop what he’s doing, still fingers Yamada, still licking him and sucking him, and honestly, Yamada felt like he was going to fall apart.

Couldn’t take any more of Yuto’s antics, Yamada pulls on the taller boy’s hair a little too tight, pulls him up to place a harsh kiss on his lips, tasting himself.

“Fuck me. _Now_ ,” he demands, bites on Yuto’s bottom lip for punishment, except it gives Yuto even more motivation.

Yuto settles the Polaroid camera down on the kitchen counter, as far as possible so it doesn’t fall, and starts working on his jeans. Boxers and pants barely making it to his knees, Yuto angles himself towards Yamada’s entrance, pulling two of his fingers out to replace them. And then he pushes himself in, just the tip, and the heat already made him feel like he was on cloud nine. Leaning his head forward, he bites at Yamada’s shoulder, unable to stop himself from digging his teeth deep, and it makes Yamada feel better, feel more _alive_.

Impatient, Yamada pulls Yuto closer, ankles settled on Yuto’s lower back helping him do so. Except, he doesn’t expect it to feel _that_ good, for the slow movement to feel like it was heaven, and _shit_ , Yuto needs to do this fast, or else this was going to end too soon.

 “ _Y-Yuto_ ,” Yamada says, voice desperate and stuck on a moan, “It’s okay. _Move_.”

And Yuto complies, starts a slow pace, and when he’s sure Yamada can take it, he rams himself in repeatedly, the movement rattling a few things on the kitchen counter. But Yamada doesn’t give a damn, head thrown back while Yuto attacks his neck and makes marks, moaning loud and long and _lustfully_.

“M-make me—” he moans again, gasps, Yuto hitting something sensitive in him, and he _knows_ Yuto has found it. The spot that always make him fall apart more than he usually does. Fisting Yuto’s hair, he finds the will to speak, “ _Shit_. Make me come. _Please_ , Yuto. I want you to make me _come_.”

He pleads again, whining, and the taller boy detaches himself from Yamada’s neck, feeling his ego inflate from the way Yamada was constantly begging him, constantly making him go insane.

Yuto tightens his hold on Yamada’s waist, knows he was going to leave bruises, and brings his other hand up to pump Yamada repeatedly, the older boy still feeling slick from his saliva.

“ _God_ , you’re making me crazy,” he managed to sneak in, because this was too much, more intense than they’ve ever been, and Yamada was fucking _begging_ for him, for fuck’s sake. He’s done that before, but not to this amount. “ _Ryosuke_ ,” he says in a low growl, kissing Yamada roughly, tangling their tongues together.

“ _Faster, please,_ ” Yamada’s begging again, and really, Yuto’s mind was going to explode, “ _Harder_.”

And Yuto increases his pace at an ungodly speed, his hips, and his hands, and his lips, and it was too much for Yamada to take. Too much for his heart, and his head, and his body, and his whole _being_.

“Oh, _g-god_ ,” he’s there, he’s right there. And he hopes Yuto was there with him, “I’m—” his breath hitches, catching in his throat, “Y-Yuto, I’m gonna—”

“Me too, _fuck_ ,” Yuto manages to reply. And he grunts, thrusts into Yamada one last time, before their joined climax take over their senses.

Yuto’s movements become staggered, his hand and hips moving at different paces now, unable to control his body anymore as he spills inside of Yamada, the older boy coming all over his hand and fingers. Yamada screams Yuto’s name out loud, not caring if it was morning, the sun shining bright, and Yuto’s neighbors might hear. It was worth it.

Yamada’s face contorts into a beautiful expression, and Yuto was staring at it, trying his hardest to keep his eyes open. He wants nothing more than to take a picture. Hundreds of pictures, actually. But he’ll save those for later, because he’s too far gone right now, and that photo wasn’t going to give justice to how extraordinarily beautiful Yamada Ryosuke looked.

They both pant as they ride out their highs, still feeling the effects and aftershocks, Yamada shivering and shaking, feeling a bigger hit from their mutual orgasm, Yuto just a fraction less than him. Kink still alive in his system, Yuto mindlessly reaches for the Polaroid camera with a shaking hand, careful not to drop it. And his finger immediately places itself on the button, moving on its own accord.

_Click. Click. Click._

The photos slowly fall on the ground, Yuto not minding where they were going. And they were all of Yamada Ryosuke, basking in the afterglow, at different angles. Because of him. All for him. _Only_ for him.

“That was—” Yamada says, trying to gather air back into his lungs, “You were—” but he couldn’t form any sentences, mind still reeling from ecstasy.

Yuto smirks while panting, “Groceries first, huh?” he says in a playful tone, placing down the Polaroid camera again.

Yamada lets out a breathy laugh, “Why do I get the feeling you’re never going to let me live this down?”

And Yuto laughs with him. Carefully, he pulls out, reaching for a roll of the newly bought kitchen tissues, wiping at their mess on top of the kitchen counter.

“So we’re definitely not going to use these here anymore,” Yuto says.

“Just put it in our room,” Yamada pulls Yuto in by the neck, already missing his presence. He places a chaste kiss onto his lips, and it feels and tastes just how likes it, warm, welcoming, wanted.

“You know,” Yuto kisses back, says with a voice still hoarse, “Katsudon sounds great right about now.”

Yamada smiles, because really, this boy can be completely sexy one minute, and extremely dorky the next, “Help me make lunch?”

Yuto smiles all the same.

“Gladly,”

* * *

Munching excitedly on a piece of katsudon, Yuto was always happy when he was eating Yamada’s cooking, but now even happier because of the pictures in front of him.

“See, Yama, look at this!” he points giddily to a photo, slides it towards Yamada’s direction, across the small dining table for two, “ _This_ is what you look like when I’m blowing you!” he says in an ecstatic tone, although the words were slightly muffled from his lunch. His eyes were shining so bright, Yamada swears there were actual sparkles in them.

And honestly, Yamada was appalled at how he could even say that sentence so casually.

“Yuto, we’re eating. And seriously, your mouth is full,”

“My mouth was full too, in this photo,”

“I _swear_ , Nakajima Yuto,” Yamada reprimands, blushes a deep shade of red, glaring at the boy across him. He sees himself high on arousal in the photo Yuto was trying to show. And okay, he loves Yuto’s work too, but this was making him feel all kinds of things again, and he needed some time to bounce back.

“It was, though,” Yuto says with an innocent smile. It irritates Yamada how cute he was, even saying something full of innuendo.

“Oh, trust me. I _know_ ,”

The taller boy takes a hearty bite of his katsudon again, smiles at Yamada cheekily, and goes back to browsing the recent photos he took.

“Ah,” he says, gulping, turning a photo around to stare at it, “You look like you’re glowing here.”

Yamada sneaks a glance at the aforementioned photo, sees himself in his state of arousal, mouth open, possibly moaning, eyes shut tight, eyebrows furrowing, body shining with sweat. It was taken from a low angle, a bit blurry, but still viewable enough. Yuto was right though, and maybe it was because of the lighting from the sun outside, or because of double-exposure from him in motion, but it did look like there was faint light surrounding him. Like he was glowing. An incandescent aura wrapping around his whole figure.

How Yuto still manages to take beautiful pictures like this, even in that situation, Yamada will always be awed at.

“You’re a wonderful photographer, you know,” Yamada says shyly, because it was true. Yuto always makes him look better than what he thought he looked.

“Only because it’s you in the photos,” Yuto replies, smile a bit more serious.

Yamada’s heart jumps in his chest.

“What?” he asks quietly.

“You think it’s beautiful because of how I took it, right?”

“Yea. And?”

“Well,” Yuto makes a grab for Yamada’s hand, lacing their fingers together, “I think it’s beautiful because it’s _you_ in the photo.”

Yuto never does fail to make Yamada blush.

The older boy clears his throat, “I hope you’re aware that that sounds incredibly corny,” he jokes, but he squeezes Yuto’s hand tighter, a silent telling that he appreciated the compliment. Yuto doesn’t mind his comment, just moves his body forward to place a soft kiss on Yamada’s lips.

Yamada widens his eyes in surprise at first, but he relaxes and kisses back.

“Your mouth,” he smirks playfully as both of their tongues tangle together, “Tastes like katsudon.”

Yuto laughs, still kisses Yamada anyway, “Your mouth tastes like my favorite flavour,” and he pulls away slowly, sitting back down on his seat.

Yamada raises an eyebrow, “Your favorite flavour is katsudon?”

“Nope,”

Confused, Yamada tilts his head to the side, “So what is it?”

“ _You’re_ my favorite flavour,”

And Yamada thinks that this boy really needs to stop making his heart pound, because he was sure it was going to escape from his chest sometime soon.

“That’s even cornier,”

“Although, the flavour I do enjoy the most would be your—”

“Please don’t ruin the moment,”

“We were having a moment?” Yuto says in mock shock, “I thought we were just talking about what taste I liked the most.”

“Talk some more and I _won’t_ let you have the taste you like most,” Yamada narrows his eyes at him, although there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

Yuto laughs, takes another bite of his food. He gathers Yamada’s photos together with one hand, happy that he can add more to his growing collection.

* * *

Yuto presses harder and faster, trying to keep up with Yamada’s pace, to overtake him somehow, find some sort of way to get the upper hand. But it was too risky, not much to gain, and Yamada was moving too fast for him, and he can’t find a way out, or a way to turn things around. He tries, though. He tries hard. He sees an opportunity, a blind side, except Yamada’s already beat him to it, and then.

 _GAME OVER_.

The big red words blink on the screen, and he watches as the character he’s chosen bleeds profusely one the ground, completely knocked out.

That’s three rounds that Yamada’s beat him in this game. Dammit.

“Round 4?” Yamada says in monotone, not even phased that he had won, yet again.

“At this point, I think you’re just mocking me,” Yuto sighs.

“You just need to work on your combo attacks,” Yamada shrugs, browsing through various characters’ specs, careful to choose a strong one.

They were lazing around on Yuto’s living room couch after lunch, making good use of their free day to stay indoors. And Yamada had popped in a newly bought video game, cranked the volume of Yuto’s television to nearly a hundred percent, and threw Yuto a controller so they can play against each other. Yuto thought it was going to be some mindless fun. But Yamada had beat him once, twice, now thrice. And he’s still going for a fourth time.

Honestly, Yuto had chances of winning. Big chances, actually. Raiya had already owned this game before Yamada did, and Yuto played rounds with him at their parents’ house last week, winning 3 games out of 5. So he knows he can win. Knows the moves he needs to use to be able to defeat Yamada’s chosen characters. But it was just.

After Yamada had plugged in the game CD, Yuto lazily slumps on the far end of the couch, placing his Polaroid camera on the table right next to it, leaning himself against the arm. And Yamada had the brightest idea of situating himself in between Yuto’s legs, sitting comfortably, and leans his back to him while waiting for the game to start up.

And instantly, Yuto feels himself heat up.

Yamada wasn’t aware of it, Yuto thinks, but when he plays video games he kind of shifts and squirms a lot in his seat. Which was okay, of course. Pretty normal. He gets pretty into it when he plays games. Except he _was_ sitting between Yuto’s long legs after all, comfortably between his thighs, and at one point during game one, he had backed up a little, pressed his ass directly against Yuto’s crotch, and sends Yuto’s mind reeling. The taller boy had gulped, hands shaking on the controller, and wills himself to just get on with the game.

It wasn’t really helping either that they were both only wearing boxers, Yuto in a thin t-shirt, and Yamada in one of Yuto’s oversized sweaters, those thighs of his that Yuto loves so much peeking underneath it.

So Yuto he loses. And loses. And loses. All because Yamada Ryosuke kept unintentionally grinding his crotch against his ass.

Fantastic.

He was having another hard time focusing now, even though the character he was using for sure had better specs than the one Yamada had chosen. But Yuto couldn’t even get the character to do its special move, because Yamada’s back was leaning against his torso, his head leaning comfortably on his chest, hair tickling Yuto’s chin, and his ass was pressing on his crotch. And Yuto feels extremely hot, but he couldn’t do anything about it.

“Yuto?”

Yuto’s startled by Yamada’s voice, but he clears his throat before speaking, afraid it might crack if he doesn’t do so, “Y-yea?”

“I can feel something,” Yamada says matter-of-factly, voice calm.

Yuto blushes. Guess that means he’s felt it this whole time then, “S-Sorry. It gets like that when you’re 10 feet within my presence,”

Yamada laughs this time, “10 feet? Well, you’re _easy_ ,” he teases, “Mine, 7 feet at least.”

“Just…let it be? I can’t exactly control it,”

“Hmm,” Yamada shrugs, focusing on the game, resuming his poker face.

Yuto struggles to keep himself calm.

Feeling mischievous, Yamada decided to have a little fun. He smirks inwardly, not wanting to be obvious of course, and leaned himself further in Yuto, wiggling his ass a little while doing so. He makes it look like he was just reacting to the combo attack Yuto had managed to finally do, and continues to press buttons repeatedly to counter attack it. Then he sighs deep, sneaking in a tiny moan at the end of it, making it sound like it was a reaction to his character’s lifeline getting lessened, and immediately hears Yuto’s breath hitch.

“Oh,” Yamada says a little seductively, subtly, when his character had successfully maneuvered to get away from Yuto’s character’s hold. He stretches a little, body curling towards Yuto’s. And he swears, he hears Yuto grunt.

He keeps repeating his actions, leaning further into Yuto, making small sounds that he knows Yuto was going to react to, breathes just the right way. And he can feel Yuto’s own breathing shifting, the taller boy taking shallow breaths as his chest rises and falls, knowing that if Yamada keeps doing this, his control was going to burst.

Yamada decided to tease him some more, because it felt good, great even, to know just how much effect he had on him.

“Yuto, it’s distracting,” he says, even though it really wasn’t. Although it did feel a little good. Or a lot good.

“S-Sorry, just,” Yuto stutters, “Ignore it. I can’t help it.”

Yamada keeps pressing buttons, knows that with one final combo attack, he would win the round again, Yuto losing rather pathetically. But he was feeling sorry for the taller boy, and a little guilty for teasing him, and he did want this, as much as Yuto did. And he _had_ bounced back from their kitchen counter session a while ago already, so what the hell.

Just when he was going to be announced the winner, his character still in the middle of the combo attack, Yamada pauses the game, grabs both his and Yuto’s controller and places it on the coffee table in front of him. He turns around, facing Yuto on the couch finally, and climbs on top of his lap, trapping the taller boy’s waist between his knees while he sits comfortably on his crotch.

“Why don’t we take care of it, yea?” he says in a low whisper, leaning forward and cradles Yuto’s jaw, pulling the taller boy by the neck to capture his lips in a searing kiss.

Yuto immediately reacts, places one of hands on Yamada’s lower back, pulling him in closer. Yamada pushes past his lips with his tongue, and licks inside Yuto’s mouth, their tongues twisting together as Yamada breathes.

He reaches for the table behind Yuto’s head, grabs onto the Polaroid camera sitting on top of it, and places the pretty thing in Yuto’s free hand. Detaching himself from Yuto’s lips, he moves lower to graze his teeth on the taller boy’s jaw, then his collarbones, and back to his neck, sucking on his Adam’s apple.

“Take your photos,” he whispers, ghosting the words on Yuto’s skin, grinding himself sensually on Yuto’s crotch. And he lifts himself to kiss Yuto again, this time more hurried.

Yuto lowers his hand on Yamada’s back, past Yamada’s boxers, grabs a handful of ass and gives a gentle squeeze. He whines in Yamada’s mouth, thankful that he finally doesn’t have to control himself anymore. The older boy detaches himself from their kiss, removes both his and Yuto’s tops in a hurry, and pulls Yuto in towards his neck.

Instantly, Yuto sucks on Yamada’s pulse, seeing a red mark forming already from their earlier endeavors, and adds more to it, wanting it to last longer. Yamada bites his lip from the sensation, pays Yuto back by grinding more into him.

“You could’ve—” Yamada’s breath hitches, Yuto attacking his neck with a hard suck, “S-said something earlier.”

Yuto smirks, “Was too busy trying to beat you,”

Yamada smirks back, eyes still closed, “And failing,”

“Maybe I was letting you win,”

“Maybe you’re creating excuses,”

Yuto chuckles, lifts himself, taking one of Yamada’s earlobes in his mouth. Yamada grabs onto his hair, snaking his fingers through them, still grinding his hips.

“Yuto…” he whispers, Yuto’s hand on his ass not really helping, control dwindling. “Come _on_ , already.”

“Someone’s demanding,” Yuto teases.

But before Yamada could respond, Yuto takes a hard lick at one of his nipples, and he bites back his retort, teeth sinking into his lower lip. Yuto moves lower, peppers kisses all over him, and finally grabs the waistband of Yamada’s boxers to remove them.

Yamada takes a deep breath, and Yuto wastes no time to take him into his hot mouth.

“ _Fucking finally,_ ” Yamada says with a moan, Yuto bobbing his head up and down, taking him further in his mouth. The taller boy moves his other hand, the one holding his Polaroid, and places it in front of him, pressing the button for a photo.

_Click._

Yamada looks down, wanting to see Yuto work on him, except he spots the camera in front of Yuto’s head and stares into the lens, Yuto pressing the button just at the right time.

 _Click_.

Yamada bites his lip, somehow getting worked up from the camera watching him.

 _Click_.

And then Yuto hallows out his cheeks, licks at Yamada’s tip, and the older boy throws his head back in pure pleasure.

“Oh, _god_ ,”

_Click._

“Y-Yuto,” Yamada’s voice shakes, “ _N-not yet_.”

And Yuto understands, doesn’t want it to end yet either. So he removes the camera in front of him, looks up at Yamada while the older boy meets his eyes, releases him with a loud pop, and kisses the tip chastely.

“Mmm,” Yuto teases, smirks, “Favorite flavour.”

Yamada rolls his eyes, despite his flushed state.

“You’re unbelievable,” he says, panting.

“And you’re gorgeous,”

Yamada didn’t bother with a response, already crawling his way towards Yuto, removing the boxers off of the taller boy, and sits on his stomach. He grabs Yuto’s free hand, licks at two of the fingers, swirling his tongue all over them, covering them with saliva. Then he pops them out, captures Yuto’s lips in a kiss again, and whispers against his lips.

“ _You know what to do,_ ”

And Yuto’s immediately in a blaze, fingers finding its way inside Yamada, the older boy _crumbling_ from the sensation. Yuto moves his hand fast, struggling to keep himself together, feels Yamada tight and hot inside. And _shit,_ he needs to move fast, _faster_ , because he wants this already, wants it _now_.

“ _Ryosuke_ ,” he says with a grunt, but Yamada’s beat him to it already, pulling Yuto’s hand away, grabs onto his length, positions it accordingly, and sinks down, taking as much as he can.

” _Oh, fuck_ ,” they both say, minds and voices in sync, Yamada panting while he holds onto Yuto’s shoulders for dear love, burying his face in Yuto’s neck.

He gathers air back into his lungs, and when he knows he can take it, he lifts himself and sinks back down all in one go, feeling a surge of pleasure flow through every inch of his entire being. Then he sits up, placing his palms flat on Yuto’s stomach, and repeats the action. Up and down, in and out.

Yuto feels his head spin, high on endorphins and ecstasy, the couch creaking underneath them from repeated movements. But he was thankful for the position, because he grabs his Polaroid with two careful shaking hands, and proceeds to take snapshots.

_Click. Click._

Yamada repeatedly bounces, biting down hard of his bottom lip, but eventually opens up his mouth and lets out loud and long moans that echo inside of Yuto’s mind, like a chorus of hallelujahs. Yuto takes photo after photo, Yamada sneaking looks into his lens from time to time.

_Click. Click. Click._

And then Yuto starts thrusting upwards towards Yamada, picking up his pace, Yamada sinking down at the same time, and it feels glorious, feels like it ignited something in both of them, a different level of heat.

“ _T-Touch me,_ ” Yamada whispers, voice stuck on another moan, and Yuto proceeds to, wrapping his free hand on Yamada, pumping him. And Yamada lunges forward, nails clawing at Yuto’s chest, and Yuto has one shot left in his camera so he takes it.

 _Click_.

And disposes of the Polaroid, lowering his hand as much as possible on the floor, before letting it fall with a soft thud. He’ll care about if it was broken or not later. Right now, his mind was too consumed with Yamada Ryosuke, and that was the only thing that matters.

So he grasps Yamada’s hip with one hand, possibly tight enough to bruise it, and continues to pump him with the other, thrusting upwards all the same. Yamada increases his pace, harder and faster, feels himself inch closer to the edge.

“ _Y-Yuto_ ,” Yamada wraps Yuto’s name around another moan, and _fuck_ , it was one of the most beautiful things Yuto has ever heard, “ _I’m c-close._ ”

And that was it, Yuto had lost all forms of sanity, ramming himself in repeatedly, Yamada’s voice echoing throughout the apartment. And he’s there too, he’s close, groaning low from Yamada’s tight heat, and he wishes Yamada was close enough like he was because he knows he wasn’t going to last long.

“ _Ryosuke_ ,” he growls out, Yamada leaning into him to capture his lips, “I’m gonna—”

Yamada whispers a _“R-Right there with you,”_ softly onto their kiss, and with a few more thrusts, Yamada sinking down one last time, they come, Yamada shaking as Yuto holds onto him, both their chests tightening as they hold their breaths from the intensity.

Yuto spills inside Yamada, the older boy all over Yuto’s fingers and stomach, and Yamada tries his hardest to breathe, to claw for oxygen, but he was having a hard time because he didn’t expect that to be as intense as it was. So he kisses Yuto again, intent on stealing air from his lungs to refill his own, but Yuto does the same, and they exchange breaths as they ride out their highs.

“W-wait,” Yamada struggles to speak when they had calmed down a little, still panting, Yuto still inside him. But he had suddenly remembered something, “Your camera…”

And Yuto laughs breathily, pulls out slowly, grabbing his camera and nearby tissues with one hand. He inspects the device, but thankfully nothing had happened to it.

He pants, “All good,” and hands the Polaroid over to Yamada, for him to inspect it as well. “See? No harm done.”

Yamada lets out a sigh of relief, “Good,” and he sets it down on the coffee table, where a few of the new photos had landed.

Yuto lips upturn into a playful smile, “Thank you for the concern for my camera,”

Yamada returns the smile, “Hey, we still have some film left. Wouldn’t want those to go to waste,”

Yuto smirks at him, and Yamada immediately continues before Yuto has the chance to say something, “For _later_. As in later on. Way later on. At night,”

Yuto just laughs again, “Whatever you say, Ryosuke,”

“Well, I’m not the one who couldn’t control himself,”

“I’m not the one who suggested we take care of it,”

“I’m not the one who—” but Yuto kisses him, suddenly missing his lips, and Yamada really didn’t know how to refuse that. Not that he wanted to, anyway.

“If I beat you at Round 5,” Yuto says onto their connected lips, “You only wear my sweater for the rest of the evening,” he challenges.

Yamada smirks.

“You’re _on_ ,”

* * *

Yamada should’ve known better by now to not take dares from Yuto. Because when Yuto challenges something, he does everything in his power to always _win_.

And now they were sitting at the dining table, eating chicken pesto pasta for dinner because Yamada was craving it, and he was wearing nothing but Yuto’s oversized sweater, having been pathetically defeated at the video game. Yuto may have lost 4 games out of 5, but he was proud of himself for winning one that actually had benefits.

“You know you don’t have to follow the rules of the dare,” the taller boy couldn’t help but laugh at Yamada’s pouting expressions, “It was just a joke.”

But Yamada was not one to back out from a dare either. And, although he would never admit it out loud—except to Yuto maybe—but wearing nothing but Yuto’s sweater, the taller boy’s scent hugging him all over, kind of made him feel sexier.

“You know you don’t have to deny that me wearing your sweater, and _only_ your sweater, turns you on,”

“I had no plans to deny that at all,” Yuto smirks, “You look really hot, by the way.”

“Shut up,” Yamada responds, trying to sound annoyed, although the blush creeping on his cheeks are a dead giveaway that he appreciated the compliment. “You lost four times, shouldn’t _you_ have punishment too?”

“You never offered any punishment. But I really wouldn’t mind getting punished by you,” Yuto wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, munching on a piece of chicken.

“Not what I meant,”

“You sure about that?” his voice goes an octave lower and it sends a shiver down Yamada’s spine.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Yamada changes the topic, “Why do you always look at those while we’re eating? Is that part of your kink?” he nods towards the new photos in Yuto’s collection, spots a few photos of him looking at the camera, a dark hue evident in his eyes.

Yuto simply shrugs, not really knowing why either, “I should really make a photo book for all of these,”

“Please don’t,”

“Call it, ‘naked’ or ‘my boyfriend during sex’,”

“Oh my god,”

“Oh, I really like your expression in this one, Yama!” Yuto says, reverting back to his dork self, tone of his voice pitching higher. Then he looks at the photo in a more in depth way, and he realizes that he really did love Yamada’s expression there. Half-lidded, sultry and seductive, drawing him in. It was haunting. Yuto gulps, “You look amazing,” he says, breathless.

Yamada struggled to get a hold of himself, “And you look like you’re about to drool any minute now,”

“Crap,” Yuto checks his mouth, but Yamada laughs, glad his joke worked.

“I was kidding,” he takes another bite of pasta, and they proceed to eat dinner, Yuto talking more about Yamada’s photos, and Yamada constantly telling him to keep quiet and eat his food, blush evident on his cheeks.

After they had finished dinner, Yamada picks up both of their plates and walks his way to the kitchen sink, running water over them. And maybe it was on purpose, but he had swayed his hips just the right way, and the sweater he was wearing, _Yuto’s_ sweater, had ridden up _just_ a little, allowing Yuto a slight view of his ass.

“Tease,” Yuto says, frustrated that his body was already reacting to that simple gesture, and stands up to help Yamada with the dishes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Yamada responds, feigning innocence.

“Yea, right,” and the taller boy snakes his arms around Yamada’s waist, wrapping tight, leaning down to put his chin on Yamada’s shoulder. “Why are you so sexy?” he whispers, breath tickling Yamada’s left cheek.

“Why are you so _horny_? And I can’t believe it’s the first time today that I’ve asked that,”

“I’m always horny for you,”

“Oh, so you’re just in it for the sex. Right, got that,”

“Yup. Definitely. I can’t believe you’re just figuring that out now,”

“Feeling’s mutual,”

They laugh, Yamada leaning his head slightly back to give Yuto a small kiss on the cheek. And that small action gets Yuto’s heart racing, suddenly serious.

“I was kidding, Yama,”

Feeling Yuto tense, Yamada knows that some hint of insecurity must have clawed at Yuto’s heart, so he places a reassuring hand on one of the arms surrounding him. “I know. I was too,”

“Mmm,” Yuto breathes, leaving a small kiss on the juncture between Yamada’s shoulder and neck. “Are you done yet?”

Yamada puts the dishes away carefully, nods.

And Yuto pulls him away, lacing their fingers together, heading for the bathroom.

* * *

The water was warm as it surrounded them, bubbles touching their bare skin like minute kisses, making the bathtub feel fuller that it actually was. Yamada grabbed a handful of the pretty thing in his hand, blew it away slowly as it flows in the makeshift wind he had created.

He sighs, remembering something. “Yuto?” he says in a small voice, leaning backwards, fitting perfectly into the taller boy's hold.

“Hmm?” Yuto places a soft kiss on Yamada’s neck, tasting a bit of soap. But it’s not too much of a bother. He searches for Yamada’s hand under the water, lacing their fingers together, his other arm circled around Yamada’s waist, hold tightening. This makes Yamada lean further into him.

But the older boy sighs again, “Work tomorrow,” he says.

Yuto chuckles, “You’re already dreading it?”

Yamada gathers bubbles and blows them away again, “You know what I mean,”

They had this unwritten rule of ‘no sex in the bedroom the night before a work day’, because they had done it once and overslept. And got a scolding from Yabu and Hikaru. And then a second time, and another scolding. So they didn’t want to risk it again. Hikaru was crazy scary when mad. Yabu was terrifying.

“Hey, at least we get to see the others,”

“I know, I’m getting sick of you. Aren’t you?” Yamada jokes.

“Definitely,” Yuto sneaks another soft kiss on Yamada’s neck, smirking, “Getting,” and another, “Sick of you.”

Yamada tilts his head, giving Yuto more access to his neck, “I can see that,”

Yuto folds his incredibly long legs, knees peeking out through the water, bubbles surrounding it. Yamada places a hand on one of them, tracing circles with his finger. The intimate gesture makes Yuto’s heart skip a beat, but he tries to focus and calm down.

He breathes in Yamada’s scent, “You okay?” he asks, leaning his chin on Yamada’s shoulder, because Yamada looked a bit mellow, and he wasn’t sure whether or not that was good.

“Yea,” Yamada whispers, “Just thinking.”

“Of?”

“You,”

Yuto’s heart swells, “And what about me?”

“How irritatingly attractive you are,”

Yuto laughs.

“Seriously. I’m not even looking at you right now. All I hear is your voice, and it’s already so stupidly alluring,”

Yuto smirks, places a longer kiss on Yamada’s neck, right on his pulse, “Same here. Although, I _am_ looking at you right now. So I guess that helps,”

Yamada suddenly feels breathless, not knowing why, “I’m so in love with you,” he says in an impulse, and it makes Yuto’s heart burst from fullness.

Yuto gulps, wills himself to speak, “I’m so in love with you too, Ryosuke,”

Yamada turns around slightly, angling his head, stares into Yuto’s eyes and sees the intimate sincerity in them, like a promise of _forever_.

“So much that it freaks me out,” Yuto continues, gathering more courage as he stares back into Yamada’s eyes, sees the same amount of love in them.

And Yamada couldn’t help it anymore, so he cradles Yuto’s jaw, gives him a kiss that he poured all of his emotions into. Because Nakajima Yuto was the _absolute fucking best_ and he’s so lucky to have him.

Yuto doesn’t shy away from responding, from putting in the same amount of raw emotion, feeling exactly the same amount of luck for having Yamada Ryosuke.

Yamada moans a little into the kiss, feels Yuto’s hand squeeze his own tighter, underneath the water. He opens his eyes a little, spots Yuto’s Polaroid covered in plastic on top of a nearby soap dispenser. And, as much as he didn’t want to ruin the intimate moment, he couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Seriously?” he says, abruptly pulling away from their kiss, leaving Yuto wanting, lips still puckered. The taller boy flutters his eyes open.

“What happened?”

“You brought that in _here_?”

Yuto turns his head towards his camera, scratching the back of his neck, “Well, I was thinking we could use it while…”

“I can’t believe you’re willing to risk your camera getting wet for a kink,” Yamada laughs some more.

“I wrapped it in clear plastic!” Yuto says proudly, reaching for the camera with his long arms, “See?”

“Wouldn’t that block the lens from taking a good picture?”

“Nah, I tried it before. The plastic makes it look artsy,”

Yamada raises a perfectly groomed eyebrow, wonders when and where Yuto had tried it before.

“Okay, before you get any ideas, I was shooting scenery while rain was pouring. So yea,”

Yamada chuckles, “Whatever you say,” he teases, then follows up with another question, “What about the photos though? Won’t they get stuck?”

“No, see, look. Pictures go out here,” Yuto shows one part of the plastic, loose enough so nothing stops the photos from coming out of the camera slot, “And then they drop here,” and he shows another part, also loose enough so the photos directly fall and gather there, like a catch basin. “Cool, right?”

Yamada lets out a small laugh, amused, “That is cool. The things you do for photography,”

“A good photographer always has a solution for everything,”

Yamada loves it whenever Yuto talks about something he loves. His eyes always light up, expression beaming, voice pitching higher from excitement.

“And you’re a _great_ photographer,”

“Thank you,”

“Wanna put it to use?” Yamada asks suddenly, and the question rings in Yuto’s ears, words wrapping themselves around his brain for him to process.

“W-What?”

“You heard me,” Yamada smirks, eyes darkening from lust, “I mean, isn’t that the reason why you brought that in here?”

Yuto gulps, “It is,”

“So let’s put it to use,” Yamada turns around, leaning further into Yuto, his head finding its place on Yuto’s shoulder again.

Yuto leans his arm on his knee, the one holding the camera, and Yamada lifts his arm from underneath the water to hold onto the other side of the Polaroid. He directs the lens at both of them, biting his lip while Yuto leans on his chin on his shoulder again, and places his finger on a button.

_Click._

Yamada presses on the button, hears a shutter, and a photo is produced.

He stares at the photo inside the plastic, slowly developing. And Yuto was right, because it looked like there was a thin veil on it, and it definitely looks more aesthetically pleasing, more artsy. Yamada’s heart swells in chest, suddenly feeling the effects of their earlier intimacy, and wants to go back to that sensation. As if reading his mind, Yuto places a soft and slow kiss on Yamada’s neck, like he had done so earlier. Relaxing, Yamada closes his eyes, focuses on the way Yuto’s lips felt against his skin, and he takes a deep breath and exhales.

“Mmm,” his vocal chords vibrate, squirming as his skin tingles from where Yuto had kissed it, “Feels—” his breath hitches, unable to continue his sentence.

Yuto nibbles on an earlobe, playing with it using his tongue, and Yamada bites his lip, feeling extra sensitive now. He lifts a free hand, reaching behind to lace it through Yuto’s hair, feeling the wet strands flow through his fingers.

He turns his head, angles his lips to Yuto’s ear, “ _Make me feel good_?” he requests, whispers in a small vulnerable voice.

Yuto just nods, voice caught in his throat from the way Yamada had sounded.

He resumes kissing Yamada’s neck, the older boy stretching his neck for better access, and when Yuto sucks on a pulse, Yamada accidentally presses on a button, capturing his expression while he reacts.

_Click._

“I bet that looks amazing,” Yuto whispers, continues to pepper kisses on Yamada’s sensitive skin.

“Well, it certainly _felt_ amazing,” Yamada breathes out.

And Yuto kisses Yamada some more, on his shoulders and shoulder blades, the back of his neck, the back of his ears, his jaw, his temples, his cheeks, while his hand underneath the water inches dangerously closer to where Yamada wanted him the most. He searches for that one sensitive spot, where Yamada’s neck and shoulder meet, and when he knows he’s found it, he takes a careful bite, wrapping his hand around Yamada’s length at the same time. And Yamada’s mouth opens, letting out a long moan.

“ _Fuck,_ ”

Both of their hands hold Yuto’s Polaroid tighter, afraid it was going to fall if they don’t do so. And when Yuto starts pumping his hand, Yamada accidentally presses on the button again, and another photo is taken.

 _Click_.

Yamada moans again, “ _More_ ,”

Yuto moves his hand faster, hearing water swish from the movement, and Yamada throws his head back in an attempt to calm himself but to also feel closer to Yuto. He backs up a little, feeling something hard against his lower back.

“F-Faster, _please_ ,” he whispers, and Yuto complies, moves his hand up and down with increased speed, Yamada’s voice hypnotizing him back into a state of ecstasy. Yamada leans further back, exposes a glorious amount of neck that Yuto just wants to bite into, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he makes wonderful sounds.

“ _So beautiful,_ ” Yuto whispers, “ _Take a photo_.”

Yamada obeys, blindly feels around for the button, pressing it hard when he knows he’s found it.

 _Click_.

And another photo materializes, awaiting development.

Yuto increases his pace a tad more, and Yamada _whimpers_ , control dwindling.

“ _Inside_ ,” he says with a breathy voice, “Y-Yuto, please. _Inside_.”

And Yuto doesn’t even think anymore, just nods and obeys, Yamada lifting himself slightly to position himself accordingly, legs spreading wider. He places his knees on the bathtub floor, careful not to slip, trapping Yuto’s long legs between them. Yuto grabs onto himself, angles it towards Yamada’s entrance, the water helping a ton in saving time, and sits up fully. He bites down hard on Yamada’s neck, slowly entering, Yamada sinking onto him, tight heat enveloping him inch by inch.

“ _Fuck,_ ” he curses, “ _Ryosuke_.”

And when he’s fully inside, a wave of pleasure washes over both of them, and Yamada couldn’t take it, nor could Yuto. They lessen their grip on the Polaroid, forgot it was still there, and it almost falls into the water, but Yuto was quick to react and had grabbed the plastic just in the nick of time, saving his camera and photos before they get completely drowned and destroyed.

” _Shit,_ ” he says, panting, mind reeling from Yamada’s tight heat. “P-Pictures later?” he stutters, struggling to form coherent words. He knows he’s only taken four photos so far, but screw it, because Yamada, and him for that matter, feeling good was what mattered more.

Yamada nods vigorously, voice as weak, “P-Pictures later,”

And Yuto hurriedly places down the camera, as far away from the water as possible, and grabs onto Yamada’s hip hard. The older boy grips the bathtub, using it as leverage, and starts bouncing up and down, Yuto trying his best to match his pace while he thrusts upward. Yuto lets go of Yamada’s hip, wraps his arm around Yamada’s middle to steady both of them, still pumping his length with his other hand.

“ _Y-Yuto,_ ” Yamada whispers, whimpering, “ _Yuto_.”

And there was nothing else he could say, nothing else he even wanted to say, because his brain kept echoing _Nakajima Yuto_ , _Nakajima Yuto_ , _Nakajima Yuto_ , and it was all that mattered.

So Yamada just increases his pace, contracting every time he came down, loosening every time he lifted himself up, and _fuck_ , it was a good system, because it felt glorious and fantastic and Yuto was about damn ready to lose all forms of sanity.

“ _Keep—_ ” the taller boy groans out, Yamada’s actions affecting him greatly, “ _Going_.”

So Yamada complies, kept up his pace and actions and Yuto tightens his hold on Yamada’s length, thrusts his hips upwards harder and faster, the water around them drowning out the sound of skin slapping underneath.

Yuto mouth finds its way to Yamada’s neck again, nipping, sucking and biting, wanting something to anchor him to reality, to prolong this feeling as much as possible, because he wanted this more. Wanted it to last forever, if possible. But he knows it can’t, so he’ll goddamn make it _last_ instead, no matter how much it takes. He slows down his pace, then, increasing it every now and then to keep the feeling heightened, and Yamada matches it, fully understanding what Yuto was going for.

Yamada finds the will to speak, gathering his voice, “Feels _—_ ” his breath hitches, Yuto thrusting into him, “So _good_ ,” he drawls out the last word, ending it on moan. “ _You feel so good_.”

Which inflated Yuto’s ego, motivated him to do better, and his lips move towards Yamada’s ear, whispers in hot breath, “ _You’re so beautiful_ ,” and Yamada’s heart jack-hammers in his chest.

They continue their pace, slow and fast, slow and fast, calming themselves down to prolong the sensation as much as possible, Yuto whispering sweet nothings in Yamada’s ear, Yamada wrapping Yuto’s name in sounds of pleasure, the both of them holding onto each other for dear love.

“ _Y-Yuto,_ ” Yamada speaks, breathless. But he says the name in different tone, a knowing one, and Yuto doesn’t need to hear any more to understand what it had meant.

“Okay,” he replies, takes a deep breath, “Okay.”

He sits back, taking Yamada carefully with him, and the position is awkward at first, but they make it work like they always do. So Yamada sits on Yuto, hands gripping the taller boy’s thighs tightly to lever himself, and Yuto wraps his arm tighter around Yamada's middle, his other hand doing the same to his length.

Yuto leaves a chaste kiss on Yamada’s neck, a silent and subtle asking of permission. Yamada gulps, bites his lip, and nods. So Yuto starts with a steady pace, thrusting upwards, the water surrounding them helping things feel slicker and easier. And he keeps going, searching for that one spot that he knows drives Yamada _crazy_ with want.

“Oh, _g-god_ ,” Yamada’s voice lets out a strangled gasp, fingernails clawing at Yuto’s thighs, knees slightly shaking.

And that’s when Yuto knows he’s found it. So he stays there, increases his pace, harder and faster, hand around Yamada’s length doing the same. And _shit_ , because the tight heat surrounding him was helping, Yamada contracting and releasing again, and it was too much for him to handle. So he loses consciousness, just keeps going and going, hoping Yamada was as near as he was.

And there was no need for words anymore, because Yuto keeps going, Yamada matching him, and the moment Yamada reaches for Yuto’s arm wrapped around his middle, linking their fingers tightly together, his other hand reaching behind to fist Yuto’s jet-black hair, Yuto just _knows_. So he bites down on Yamada’s shoulder, keeps his pace, until he feels something snap inside of him, Yamada tightening, a sign that he had done the same thing. And he spills inside Yamada, fills him up, groans out loud, while Yamada spills come all over the water, screams Yuto’s name as his voice bounces off the bathroom tile walls.

And god, Yuto doesn’t even know how long it lasts. It feels like an eternity, or more than, even. But he doesn’t know or care anymore, simply pants hard, matching Yamada’s deep breaths while they both crawl backwards into reality, clawing their way to consciousness.

“ _Wow,_ ” Yuto says, breathless. And he would’ve said something more, but his mind was currently at a loss.

“ _Wow yourself_ ,” Yamada says back, panting.

Slowly, he lifts himself, Yuto slowly pulling out of him, and he reaches behind them to press on the knob to lift the bathtub drain, water around them gradually sinking and lowering. Still feeling a bit sensitive, he struggles to turn around in Yuto’s hold. But he does so, he sits comfortably on Yuto’s thighs, his own still quivering, and sticks their foreheads together, eyes staring into Yuto’s, looking as deep and _in love_ as his.

Yuto moves forward and captures his lips in a soft kiss, arms surrounding Yamada’s waist, Yamada’s arms surrounding his neck. And it was intoxicating, really, but probably because they still haven’t recovered fully, or because there was something about the kiss being raw and vulnerable, or any other reason. But Yuto was drunk on the taste of lust, love, and _Yamada Ryosuke_ , and he couldn’t find the time to give a shit about anything else.

“You okay?” he asks softly after another kiss, noticing that Yamada was awfully quiet.

“Yea,” Yamada breathes out, “Just thinking.”

“Of?”

“You,”

Yuto lets out a small laugh, their conversation sounding exactly like the one they had earlier, “And what about me?”

“How much I love you,”

Yuto’s heart skips a beat, “Oh yea?” he smirks, “How much?”

Yamada smirks back, decides to joke, “Not much actually,”

“I knew it, you were just in it for the sex,”

“Well, as we can see,”

“Feeling’s mutual,”

They both laugh, eyes creasing, marveling in the sound how much their laughter harmonizes beautifully. And then Yamada stares into Yuto’s eyes again, never getting sick of them, and Yuto stares back, feeling the same.

So Yamada pulls him in suddenly, and their lips meet in a hurried, and wanting, and deep kiss, a connection of lips that pour a million emotions.

 _“So much_ ,” Yamada says onto it, voice desperate, “So fucking much, _god Yuto,_ you don’t even _know_ ,”

But he does know. Yuto knows it full well. And Yamada knows that he knows, too. And he knows that Yuto feels just as much as he does.

“So much more than you can _fucking imagine_ , Ryosuke,”

But it was great to hear it from Yuto’s lips, the words tattooing themselves onto Yamada’s heart, and _fuck_ , they were so fucking screwed, but then not really. Because they had each other. And maybe that was enough.

The intensity in the kiss decreases a little, and Yuto makes use of that to lighten the mood.

“Although it _is_ getting late. And we don’t wanna get yelled at again, tomorrow,”

Yamada laughs. “True,” so he gives Yuto one last chaste kiss, and they both exit bathtub, hand in hand.

* * *

After brushing their teeth side by side, still fully naked, hips bumping, they settle down on their bed, Yuto in a thin t-shirt and boxers, Yamada wearing nothing but Yuto’s sweater. They decide to relive memories, hoping it can lull them to sleep.

“And that time when Dai-chan laughed so hard, milk went out of his nose,” Yuto laughed heartily at the memory, remembering all the details.

“Yuya was so disgusted because it almost hit him,” Yamada laughs with him, remembering the same.

They continue talking until slumber had slowly taken over their systems, so Yamada whispers goodnight to Yuto, wrapped up in his arms, before Yuto stops him momentarily.

“Wait,” he says, voice groggy and husky and, Yamada admits, extremely sexy.

“Hmm?”

Yuto points to the Polaroid camera sitting on Yuto’s bedside table, out of the plastic now, and Yamada reaches for it, places it carefully in front of both their faces.

“One last photo?”

Yamada nods, and Yuto nuzzles his neck before he presses on the shutter.

The photo prints out, Yamada grabbing onto it and inspecting it as it develops.

They both have half-lidded sleepy eyes, possibly from exhaustion, but satisfied smiles on their lips, and really, it was one of the most beautiful things Yamada has ever seen.

“Frame it,”

It wasn’t even a request, nor a question. But not a demand too. Just a simple statement. Because Yamada knows Yuto was going to frame it, sooner or later. It was too beautiful to not be displayed.

“I will,”

They carefully place the photo, along with the camera, back on the bedside table.

Yuto wraps his arms comfortably around Yamada, and they both drift to sleep.

* * *

The next day, at a PV recording, Yuto had a digital camera in his hand and was endlessly taking numerous photos, aiming the lens at Yamada.

“Seriously, enough,” Yamada says, covering his face with his hands. It was a very familiar scene, actually, so the others weren’t really surprised to see it playing out in front of them.

But Hikaru notices a hint of something in Yamada’s smile, something he can’t place. So decides to tease him about it, “Looks like you two lovebirds had a fun weekend,”

Yabu catches onto his playful tone, wanted to tease as well, “Yea, I noticed that too. You two have fun this weekend?”

Yamada hears both of the older members’ voices, teasing him and Yuto, and all he does is smirk at the taller boy, looking past the camera pointed at him, and searches for Yuto’s eyes.

“Yea,” they both say at the same time, Yuto smirking at Yamada back from behind the camera.

“We did.”

**Author's Note:**

> *whispers*  
> I also thought of a sequel with Yamada's kink this time HAHAHAHAHA someone stop me pls huhu  
> Also note: I own three kinds of Polaroids but I have never tried the whole plastic whatever thing I wrote LOL so yea, don't try it at home? Or idk, try it, tell me what it looks like HAHAHAHAHA! A.k.a. I was finding an excuse for them to have the camera in the bathroom too HAHA!
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoyed reading! Thoughts? :)


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